Spring Cleaning

When it’s over it’s over, whether there’s a fat lady singing or not.  Too often we struggle to hold onto yesterday and all of its belongings.  It may be that even the people of yesterday, our childhood friends and old lovers, will have to go.  Then it’s time to ‘find ourselves’.  Those whose wanderlust hearts haul them all over the planet in search of themselves couldn’t perceive a life lived at home.  Those who live in their native country or even county don’t see any need to look elsewhere for themselves.  We are not all alike.  We can only learn and grow from change and movement whether it be inner or outer.  So why do we fear that change?  There are those who find it difficult to throw out old utility bills so it’s unlikely that they will disturb too many cobwebs in their inner search.  However, there are many brave souls out there who can look honestly into their own minds and hearts and take stock.  There may be a healthy relationship with an unhealthy dynamic creeping in, or there may be two amazing people who try very hard to make it work, only to discover that they are with the wrong amazing person.  A fabulous job opportunity can be undone by an annoying co-worker or an average job can be enhanced by a good colleague.  Easy isn’t a word associated with relationships of any kind but there’s a reason for that; they make you look wholeheartedly at who you are and why these people or situations are in your life.  We draw them to us so that we can learn, sometimes a pleasure, sometimes a long and tough lesson but the only way to change anything is to change within ourselves or to change our perception of that situation.  When we get to know who we are, what we want and how hard we’re willing to work for it, then we’re well on our way to finding the right person, situation, career or place.  In the end it’s all about ourselves.  Get to know who you are, warts and all, and love that whole person.  Fear is the only obstacle in your way but on the other side of fear is an open road.


Anne Elizabeth Bevan

 Love’s Winter


She stood beside me

in that silence

old lovers can bear.

Dahlias bowed low in the heat,

bobbing to the beat of the breeze

with no particular purpose.


Twisting the gold,

her eyes wandered over

the untidy garden.

Her face set against the task

she lifted her gaze

to my need.


Her fixed glance too much,

I shivered in the autumn

warmth, spent.

She plucked the garden broom

and swept;

I turned to dead head the roses.


Stealing a glance, I saw a tear drop

to her wrinkled hand

and I pretended not to see

the tragedy that holding her begot.

I leaned the harder on the garden spade

and wept.


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